


an unfinished symphony

by eenimeeniminimo



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Character Death, DreamSMP - Freeform, Grief/Mourning, Hurt No Comfort, Music, he's reminiscing of better times, lmanberg, tommy and tubbo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-16 12:02:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28581690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eenimeeniminimo/pseuds/eenimeeniminimo
Summary: Tommy had so many regrets and wishes for so many things.he wishes that he never killed that creeper and got that disc, he wishes he had run away with his friend when he had the chance, he wishes he never let the green bastard get in between him and the people he cared so much about.but above anything Tommy just wished he had appreciated the time he'd had so much more.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Kudos: 15





	an unfinished symphony

**Author's Note:**

> tw: death implied and blood
> 
> if any of the creators displayed here express discomfort with this sort of fic it will be taken down immediately

the air was dark and still with the dark coppery smell of dying explosions travelling through the thick smog. 

it was quiet. and oh so very still. 

lmanberg was never quiet like this. 

on a tiny corner of a steep cliff a tinny disc rings out intothe silence, the only thing to be heard other then the background humm of the wind. 

on the bench sits a blonde boy, although you couldn't tell it as his hair was covered in thick black dust and a dark river of coppery blood ran through it. the boy doesn't appearto be in pain instead staring blankly, almost peacefully into his wrecked surroundings. 

in his head the matters are far different. 

Tommy's head burns with the ringing of explosions, of fallen debris and of the sounds of destruction. he can barely hear the noise of the disc through his own thoughts. 

sitting on the bench he can only think of better times. of times where it wasn't like this. 

he imagines his brown haired companion sitting by his side. his bright eyes would shine up and they'd discuss the world. they'd discuss things they didn't yet know and didn't yet understand. the world was an adventure to be explored. 

he remembers an old conversation with his friend, about bees of all things. 

"Tommy look!" tubbo had yelled, his eyes full of glee, Tommy turned suddenly, heart jumping only to see a round bee bumping into a flower behind the bench. 

at the time Tommy had responded with a snort and a quick "you're so dumb tubbo" but if he were there now he would simply sit and watch his friend for awhile. 

watch his friends scareless face and bright, undarkened eyes innocently take in the fluffy insect he was seeing before him. he would just watch his friends smile, and watch at how bright and wide it was - instead of the tight, thin thing he remembered now. 

Tommy had so many regrets and wishes for so many things. 

he wishes that he never killed that creeper and got that disc, he wishes he had run away with his friend when he had the chance, he wishes he never let the green bastard get in between him and the people he cared so much about. 

but above anything Tommy just wished he had appreciated the time he'd had so much more. Tommy had so many regrets and wishes for so many things. 

he wishes that he never killed that creeper and got that disc, he wishes he had run away with his friend when he had the chance, he wishes he never let the green bastard get in between him and the people he cared so much about. 

but above anything Tommy just wished he had appreciated the time he'd had so much more. 

if he could go back he would spend the day trailing Wilbur and just watch the older man talk with fire in his heart and bounce in his step. he would walk down to Niki's bakery and watch the woman's gentle but strong smile and wide, warm eyes. he would walk through thestreets of the nation he built and just take in all the joyous chatter and cheer. 

but most of all Tommy would find tubbo and bring him to their bench. he would play his disc and he would just listen to tubbo talk about all the small petty things he once considered not worth his time. 

but he can't do that and he never will be able to. 

slowly, Tommy limped over to the edge of the destroyed prime path and looked once more at the nation that had once meant everything. 

or at least, he looked at where it used to stand. 

the crator was wide, jagged and hard and as he looked at it the echoes of explosions rang in his ears but the loudest sound of all was the booming silence. 

no quiet natter, friendly banter, the sounds of biding projects going wrong. instead it was just so quiet. 

Tommy felt his knees go weak under him and he fell to the floor. he didn't even notice his tears until he felt the salty water land on the back of his dirty hand. 

lmanberg, his unfinished symphony. 

lmanberg who was created by a group of friends who knew nothing about a nation other then the fire and the passion in their hearts. their firey voices had been the first to start the melody. 

lmanberg the bustling town who fought against their dictator to instate freedom their notes were made by the clashing of swords and sacrafices. 

even the last few bars of the song, as melancholic as they may be, were created by the people trying to hold an empty town together. their hopeless optimism fills out the final tune. 

and finally the loud bangs that ended it, that cut the melody short. 

maybe lmanberg would be forgotten with the sands of time and the memories of the people with it. perhaps in the future some ancient scientists would return and wonder what happened, perhaps a new society would make this scar their home. 

I couldn't tell you, the whims of the future are not my story to tell. 

Tommy can only hear his own melody: the melody of man he looked up to like a brother, the tune of a pig he betrayed and the sorrowful notes of a friend he left behind. 

lmanberg, forever an unfinished symphony.

**Author's Note:**

> for some reason it wouldn't let me add the "Tommy and tubbo" tag so that's annoying
> 
> anyway I hope you enjoyed and I hope Tommorow goes well >:]


End file.
